Manga Honey X Honey

Book 2 of Shadow: "**** ar you oky shld I cll Dnil," he says sounding worried. I don't even know what his saying everything is blurry. "Daniel p-p-please" I beg I don't even know for what but I'm definitely begging. I need to find my release. I need to scream. I need to make noises something anything "Oh I'm down here Mr. Babanin eating my girlfriend out," Daniel says and my eyes widen. No, he didn't. I hear Mr. Babanin chuckle sounding almost pleased by Daniel's answer "That a boy," he says and Daniel winks at me. My mouth drops open in shock "Any tips Mr. Babanin," Daniel asked and now I gasp. Mr. Babanin is a man in his late fifties surely he doesn't have anything to say "All I'm going to say is honey. Lots and lots of honey,"

After five years of harboring an unrequited love for Lara Lawson, I am physically and emotionally exhausted. So, I marry my childhood friend, Celine Young, instead. To the outside world, Celine and I are the perfect couple. We share a wonderful life together and eventually welcome an adorable baby boy. I regard her as someone who has been by my side my entire life. But one day, I turn on her phone and discover two unsent messages. "If you want, I can divorce him immediately." "You're the only man I'll ever love." As it turns out, what I thought was my salvation is nothing but a cruel joke. I am nothing but a convenient stand-in. And to make matters worse, even my own flesh and blood is on her side. Heartbroken, I cut off contact and walk out of their lives without a trace of hesitation. After I leave them, they begin to panic. "Can you please stay, honey?" "Please don't go, Dad."

Right before New Year’s, the sports car I had waited six months for was finally delivered. However, my wife Vanessa snatched the keys from my hand. “Ryan likes sports cars. Let him take yours for a quick spin.” I refused. I knew her godbrother, Ryan, did not even have a driver’s license. Still, she secretly gave him the keys anyway. When I saw my car again, the car hood was covered in blood. Vanessa was holding Ryan. Her face was full of distress, and her words left me stunned. “Honey, please take the blame for Ryan. No one will make things hard for you with your background.” I immediately refused, but Vanessa then pulled out her phone. “I already turned you in. Just go along with it. You’ll be fine.” I could not believe my eyes when I saw the police call history.

“Honey, who is this? Is she a friend or busines—” “She’s your replacement.” Nathaniel spat, throwing divorce papers at Clara. ********** Hell Hath Fury Like A Woman Scorned! After two years of marriage, Clara was rewarded with a divorce and a miscarriage because of her ex-husband, Nathaniel. Alone, dejected and praying for death, she meets an Alpha who offers her a unique opportunity: a marriage of convenience and in exchange, he would give her anything she wants. There’s only one thing Clara desires more than anything: to see Nathaniel crumble, to punish the man who took her baby from her. As Clara rises to the top as Luna, she will force Nathaniel to the bottom. “Forgive me, dear wife.” Nathaniel begged, on his knees. “Ex-wife!” Clara said coldly. “You took my baby. Now, you’ll pay for everything!” ************ This is not the usual divorce book. If you’re interested in reading about a strong female lead who deals justice to those who hurt her, add to your library.

I have my headphones on as I direct flight routes. A pilot named Everett Wright suddenly switches into the voice channel I'm on. Then, he publicly mocks me for being inept in bed. "Hey, Jacob! Your wife said you're practically hopeless in bed and that you're done in just a second! Are you seriously a one-second shooter? Ahahaha!" When the rest of the crew hear Everett's words, they can't stop themselves from laughing too. Thinking that this isn't humiliating enough for me, Everett flicks on a private channel purposefully. I can hear my wife, Charlotte O'Brien, suppressing her moans and pants. "Hurry up, honey! Why did you switch to my husband's channel? Stop messing around and just turn it off already!" Charlotte's voice is tinged with a hint of affection. She doesn't care about whether or not I got humiliated—she just enjoys the thrill of being able to flirt with her lover in public.

In the seventh year of running my jewelry store, a woman came in to order a set of gold jewelry for her future mother-in-law. As I introduced the designs, I noticed the gold bracelet on her wrist. It was identical to the one my husband had crafted for me. Just as I was about to take a closer look, her phone lit up. The wallpaper was a photo of a couple, and the man in it was Julian Holt, my husband of seven years. My expression froze. I walked to the far end of the counter and placed a call. “Honey, do you remember the gold bracelet I asked you to keep when we got engaged? Can you take a photo of it and send it to me?” There was a brief pause on the other end. When he spoke, his tone of voice was tense. “Why are you suddenly asking about the bracelet? I stored it in a bank safe deposit box. It’s probably too late to go get it now. Tomorrow, I’ll bring it to you.” I smiled and agreed. After hanging up, I returned to the female customer.

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, the groom's name was swapped out. The woman my boyfriend was now promised to—the pampered mafia princess nestled in his arms—looked at me with a triumphant smile. "Isn't it perfect?" she sneered. "A fraud of a bride for a fake heir. What a match." I ignored her and turned to the man I loved. This was the man who endured three days of brutal punishment just for the right to marry me, when the Rossi family first acknowledged him as their true heir. Now, he just nodded along with her. "Don't be so dramatic. It's a joke. You're not actually mad, are you? It's just a piece of paper. Once Sienna's had her fun, you two get a divorce, and then it'll be our turn. I promise." I smiled. Then I turned and walked straight to the so-called "fake" heir. "The marriage license is filed, honey," I said. "Let's go plan our real wedding."

When Ethan was at his poorest, he came home drunk after negotiating a deal with a client. He could not even stand straight when he reached home, but he desperately pulled out two pieces of melting chocolate from his pocket. “Honey, for you! Your favorite!” During those endless days of arguments that followed, I always thought back to those two pieces of chocolate. They were the reason I compromised with him, fell pregnant for him, even miscarried for him. It all ended just now, when he forgot to log out of his WhatsApp on his computer. His friend messaged him. [Hey, your wife doesn’t know Anna joined your company yet, does she?] [Back when she was about to leave the country, you searched the whole city for her favorite chocolate, but you still couldn’t convince her to stay. After that, you got dead drunk and cried the entire way home.] [That was when I knew you would never get over her.]

“Honey, let’s make a baby together so that you won’t leave me.” I resisted, but my husband ignored it and forced himself onto me. After that, I did it with him 520 times, each time a nightmare for me. Even when he was on business trips, he had to monitor my every move via video, terrified that I would run away. However, one day, I received an invitation to an art exhibition. The intimate gestures between my husband and me had been turned into works of art, filling the entire gallery. My husband held a young female intern by the waist, his gaze sweeping over me with indifference. “Two years ago, you insisted on going against Tiara over an art collectible and suppressed her during the auction, spending lavishly just to humiliate her.” “Now there are 520 art pieces here, an exhibition showcasing your disgrace. If you don’t want them falling into someone else’s hands, you’ll need to bid on them one by one.”

I’m the public lover of Tara Brewer, the underworld queen. She often dotes on me and treats me like I'm her most precious treasure, and she goes as far as to claim that she wants to give birth to ten children for me. But when I'm getting beaten up by others while completely drenched in my own blood, Tara doesn't recognize me at all. Instead, she turns to comfort her beau, Brandon Holden. "That filthy bastard has crossed you, honey! You can just beat him to death! I'll be your safety net!" Only then do I realize that Brandon is Tara's lover this whole time. As soon as Tara's words fall, she snatches the boxing gloves from Brandon and begins punching my face, which has a mixture of blood and tears streaking down my cheeks. At the same time, she says icily, "Don't worry. Once you're dead, I'll inform your wife so that she can pick up your corpse."